


The Right Key

by SleepyKalena



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: A focus on the dimensions of wellness, Developing Relationship, Drama & Romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, It hurts before it gets better, Modern AU, Music, Piano, Piano Instructor!Jyn, Police, Police Detective!Cassian, Slow Build, Touch-Starved, also gonna shove a ton of tropes here over time, rating will go up on the final chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-06-28 13:27:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15708147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleepyKalena/pseuds/SleepyKalena
Summary: 6 months. 24 weeks. 48 lessons.That's how many piano lessons Police Detective Cassian Andor has to endure as part of a mandatory Wellness Program at his police department. Bodhi, to his credit, is doing all he can to be the best Battle Buddy as they partner up through the program together, but Cassian is resisting the idea of this frivolity at every turn.His piano instructor isn't half-bad, though, but the detective side of him can't help but think she's hiding a lot of things under her airy and light-hearted demeanor.How can someone so guarded help him get in touch with his sense of emotional wellness?He's not sure, but perhaps he'll learn something meaningful at the end of the 48 lessons.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ivaylo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ivaylo/gifts).



> aka: The "Wreck Jojo" fic
> 
> This fic is my gift to you, Jojo! In a show of appreciation for all the emotional support, the endless cheerleading, the putting-up-with-my-bullshit, I'm here to write you a multi-chap rebelcaptain fic with as many of your favorite tropes shoved in it as possible.
> 
> Consider this gift a failure if I don't wreck you with tropes and angst and hurt/comfort. :P

The studio was so empty that the sound of Cassian sitting on the bench scraped and creaked uncomfortably in the silent room. Apparently he'd arrived first.

He checked his watch: 1750 hours.

Technically the lesson wasn't due to start for another ten minutes, but being less than 15 minutes early for an appointment was always considered late, in his line of work. Not that the policy was always observed, but it never hurt to be proper about these things. It'd be rude to not follow them otherwise.

Nonetheless, he still sighed. The whole thing was pointless.

His phone buzzed. A message from Bodhi.

> [1755]  
>  Rook: Hey, you showed up to your piano lesson, right?  
>  Andor: Yeah  
>  Rook: You're not lying, are you?  
>  Andor: No  
>  Rook: Alright, cuz we're "battle buddies" so I gotta do my part to get you through this Wellness Program!  
>  Andor: This is bullshit  
>  Rook: necessary*  
>  Andor: 6 months of this, Bodhi.  
>  Rook: And I’ll be your accountabili-buddy every step of the way  
>  Andor: Shut up  
>  Rook: Lemme know how your first lesson goes!

Cassian had his thumbs poised and ready to type a snarky response, but he decided to spare his poor colleague instead. Bodhi _was_ the one who was most serious about it adhering to this wellness program, an idea thrust upon their department “in order to boost morale, increase team-building, and achieve health in a holistic manner”. They’d be subject to this for half a year, chasing after some fuzzy ideal of working towards bettering a desired “dimension of wellness”.

He still couldn’t believe that Bodhi talked him into taking _piano lessons_ , of all the things in the world, and could still hear his enthusiastic voice fresh in his head at the odd connection between his somewhat-haphazardly chosen dimensions of wellness that he “wanted to address and improve upon” and the strong suggestion of piano lessons.

 _“Learning to play an instrument is most definitely a way to address emotional wellness!”_ Bodhi had said. _“It’ll get you to feel and express emotions that you might not be aware of.”_

Except his job demanded complete awareness and attention to small details. He could detect emotions in others from the way they reacted to evidence, to the news he provides during interrogations, to a suspect’s realization that he’s responsible for investigating them.

But, if he had to force himself to sit and think about it for just a moment, he could somewhat meekly admit that, maybe, perhaps, expression from him these days was hard to come by thanks to work stress.

Still. Six months. 24 weeks. 48 lessons.

He looked up to the ceiling of the studio and let out a gruff sigh.

Cassian suddenly heard the sound of scurrying bootsteps from just outside the door, and with one minute left until the official start time of his first piano lesson, the heavy door swung open and the blinding afternoon light came flooding in.

“Oh, you’re here before me-” the instructor said, pausing to give him the chance to fill in the blank.

"Cassian," he said evenly.

"Cassian," she finished, easing the door shut behind her. “Normally my students are late since they can’t find the entrance.”

He shrugged, attempting to appear nonchalant despite that there was a tension in his spine from the fact that his instructor was actually late in his eyes.

The instructor’s boots made a hollow _tak-tak-tak_ noise as she walked towards the coat rack next to the piano. She shed herself of the woolen stole that draped off her shoulders, gingerly pulling it up and over her head to keep her tightly-wound, well-kept bun intact. Hanging it on the coat rack, she looked at him and gave a small smile, but Cassian noted that it was one of the more earnest smiles he’d seen in a while. She bowed her head slightly and made her way towards the bench, taking the cue to scoot aside so that she could occupy half of it.

“My name is Jyn, and I’ll be your instructor for the next-” her voice trailed off as she pulled a clipboard off the top of the piano and checked the papers attached. “24 weeks, wow. Looking to impress someone with this, or?”

Cassian remained tight-lipped and shrugged.

She seemed to interpret it as a sign that she caught him on his alibi and she chuckled softly. “Say no more,” she said.

It was almost unnerving to Cassian how _gently_ she carried herself. Her voice and footsteps alone carried themselves in such a way that seemed forever in the clouds, light and airy, not feeling _real_ , never wanting to touch the ground and bear any weight to the earth’s surface. The clipboard had barely made a sound as she placed it back atop the piano.

His instincts kicked in and he came to the conclusion that although her actions and words felt genuine and sincere, she was _definitely_ hiding something from him. But what that something was, and whether or not that something mattered to him, _that_ was a mystery in itself.

She wasn’t his assignment, however, so he forced himself to ignore that temptation to analyze her any more than was necessary for the completion of the wellness program.

His instructor wasted no time in getting straight to the point, which he liked: "We're going to start with the basics," she said almost immediately.

He stared blankly at her.

"Scales, I mean."

_Like the things on a fish?_

Cassian was relatively certain the blank look on his face hadn’t improved, so he gestured to the piano, ready to observe what she meant.

Her right hand lifted swiftly before it lowered onto the piano’s keys, each finger assigned to their own white key. They rested on the white ivory, her touch feather-weight, until she pressed on the keys, one-by-one, starting with her thumb. Just when he thought she’d run out of keys to play, her wrist flicked, and suddenly her hand reset itself, shifting to a new default position as the melody climbed higher and higher in pitch. She paused on the final key, which she reached with her pinky, then rested on that high note for just a beat before making her way backwards down the row of white keys, her fingers working in reverse. And just as she was about to run out of fingers to use for playing, her wrist flicked again, a sleight of hand that Cassian thought was clever enough to catch, only to find that he still couldn’t figure out how she managed it, and soon enough her hand was back in the original spot. Her thumb stayed pressed against that first note, the sound holding itself for a good few seconds until she finally, lifted her hand in a gentle, yet clinical move.

The sound died down gently, and then he was met with silence and a look of expectation from Jyn.

Cassian hesitated, unsure of where to even place his hand on the piano.

"You'll want to put one finger on each key, just like I did earlier,” she explained. “Your thumb goes on the middle C key."

He blinked. "I'm sorry, the-?"

"Middle C key," she said, and she gestured to his right hand. “May I?”

He wasn’t really a fan of strangers touching him unless it was a matter of life or death, so he held back a resigned sigh as he held his hand out. She took his hand in hers and placed the thumb on a white key in the center of the piano.

Her hand was...surprisingly soft.

He shook the thought away- of course her hands would be soft, if they've only ever touched instruments of music. His own hands couldn't be as soft and smooth anymore, not while he routinely handled instruments of murder.

"Just go up the scale like I did, one note at a time. See how it feels."

And he did so, but hesitated on the pinky, realizing that her sleight of hand trick would've already happened by now, but he held his pinky there regardless, hoping for more instructions.

"Good," she said. "Now go in the reverse, starting with the pinky."

He did so, trying to emulate the way she held the final note in the scale.

She nodded in approval, then continued with her lesson.

Jyn continued to teach him the scales on his left hand, which was a new sensation- he doesn't ever recall being so articulate with the fingers on his non-dominant hand. He made a note to fix that over time.

The hour went by more quickly than he thought, and with 10 minutes left on the clock, she went to the bookshelf in the studio and grabbed a small paperback book.

"For your homework between now and the second lesson, I'd like you to read up on this. The first 10 pages go over finger positioning for both hands, as well as what notes look like. When you come back in two days, please be ready- we'll start to work on speed, then practice the full scale, not just the first five notes."

He took the flimsy book from her and examined the cover. It flopped sadly against his knuckles, and the lamination had begun to peel and curl at the edges. Clearly this was an old book, judging by the faded colors and the rather antiquated style of children's illustration, but none of the pages were torn or folded.

It dawned on him suddenly that he had _children's_ homework.

No matter- he'd study this tonight before bed, and have the theory mastered by morning. If there was anything he considered himself skilled in, it was how well his book smarts translated to street smarts. The same idea can be applied to music-making, he was sure of it.

"Do you have any other questions, Cassian?"

He remembered the slip of paper in his back pocket. "Actually, could you sign off on this? To prove I've attended the lesson."

She took the paper quietly and scanned the page completely. The corners of her lips quirked into an amused smirk for a split second before she neutralized her expression back to its former self.

"This is a rather interesting form of...mandated community service," she remarked.

_So she had a sense of wit._

"Mandated wellness program, thank you very much," he said with equal amusement and lightness.

“Well, let’s hope the person you have to report this to is _mighty_ impressed with your skills by the end of all this,” she said, handing the now-signed paper back to him, and she chuckled again with that same airiness that took Cassian off-guard not one hour ago.

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” he said dryly, and pocketed the paper unceremoniously.

“Alright,” Jyn said, reaching up to grab her stole off the coat rack, “I’ll see you on Wednesday, then, same time.” She turned to face him as he was getting up from the bench, adding, “You did well on your first lesson, and you’re one step closer to being able to play on your own. Good job!” before sticking her hand out.

Although he didn’t understand the point in shaking hands over a series of _piano lessons_ , of all things, he nonetheless reached out and shook her hand, marveling again at just how soft it was compared to his own.

But what was more surprising than the smoothness of her skin was the strength of her grip. This was no handshake for weaklings- her hand practically cupped his, and she squeezed just firmly enough that he couldn’t easily wrench free if he wanted to, but not so much force that it crushed his hand. When she finally let go, he could still feel the impression of her grip in the webbing between his thumb and forefinger.

There was clearly something about instructor, he realized as he walked through the doors of her studio and was met with the glowing golden sunset of the outside world. But hopefully it would be enough to keep him interested for the remaining 47 lessons, because otherwise he’d have some stern words for Bodhi and his suggestions.

And speaking of Bodhi, his “accountabili-buddy” was ever so eager to check up on him at every turn.

> [1906]  
>  Rook: How’d it go?  
>  Andor: Normal  
>  Rook: So...it went well? :D  
>  Andor: I’m being taught concepts normally taught to 5 yr olds. How tf do you think it went?  
>  Rook: I’ll take that as a good sign, then! How many lessons you got left?  
>  Andor: 2x for 24 wks. Do the math  
>  Rook: Too lazy, so we’ll just say a buttload.  
>  Andor: A buttload of boring for this program  
>  Rook: Oh come _on_ , you’re on a path to emotional wellness here!  
>  Andor: Piano lessons are a mistake  
>  Rook: *for the best  
>  Andor: ...That’s not how corrections work.  
>  Rook: Hey, I’m here to check up on you because I know you’d rather do work or stay at home by yourself than work on this program.  
>  Rook: I’m doing my part here and you need to do yours  
>  Rook: If you walk in already hating it, you’ll never get even a step closer to that dimension of wellness you wanted to work on!  
>  Andor: I picked it out of a hat  
>  Rook: Lies  
>  Andor: Truth  
>  Rook: Stop being in denial and be more proactive about yourself.

Cassian sighed and threw his phone on the passenger seat as he drove home. His phone continued to buzz, but he chose to ignore it, even going so far as to setting it to Do Not Disturb to silence the vibrations.

This new routine forced upon him was frivolous. Hell, it was _pointless_ , and a huge waste of time. He was better off spending that hour poring over case files that he hadn’t gotten around to looking into for weeks now. There was no point in focusing on himself when he was better suited to help others, especially those who were in actual danger, who had lost loved ones and wanted justice served, who sought answers and needed to find closure and move on. It was more comfortable this way.

He refused to look at his phone for the rest of the night, and marked the text messages from Bodhi as “read” once he sat down on his couch and fanned out the papers of yet another open case on his coffee table.

A very small part of him wanted to know what Bodhi had to say, but an unexplainable fear washed over him every time he was tempted to flip the phone over and read the texts. He struggled with the temptation for just a little while longer until his eyes glanced over the photos taken at the crime scene, the spatters of blood and dismemberment decorating his coffee table, and he found himself with the strength to focus again on the more important matter in front of him.

Some hours had passed, however, and he was no closer to tying any clues together for an answer, no matter how much evidence and intel he managed to procure for this packet. He rubbed his fingers over his knuckles, feeling the cracked dryness, and he paused abruptly as he remembered the feel of Jyn’s hand on his own. They were soft, but she held it with such an assuredness, a mix between “I’ll be here for you” and “Don’t be a baby, muscle up, buttercup”.

It struck him suddenly that it had spent an inordinate number of years standing at a distance from people. It’s what happens when you step into a crime scene- you only got close to people because they were dead and in need of inspection. Anyone else who got close to you was, more often than not, a threat. A victim’s survivors never wanted to be touched, not when their loved ones were torn away from them, sometimes literally.

He worked, day in and day out, watching the world turn more and more as an outsider, never making contact unless it was necessary. The distance was comfortable. The distance was safe.

But when Jyn touched his hand and gave it a comforting squeeze, even for something as simple as doing a 5-note scale on a musical instrument, he started to wonder just how safe his distance was.

It was safe for others, but was it safe for himself?

No, he couldn’t think about this. He was thinking about himself again. That’s not what’s needed of him to help the greater good.

He decided to turn in for the night to sleep, leaving the photos scattered on his table, the piano book ignored on the kitchen counter next to his car keys, and his phone still face-down as he continued to act as though Bodhi hadn't tried to text him all night.

> _[1910]_  
>  _Rook: I know you know this idea of mandated mental wellness isn’t actually bullshit_ _  
> _ Rook: Stop being afraid to look at yourself
> 
> _[2153]_  
>  _Rook: Cassian, I asked to be your battle buddy because I’m worried about you._ _  
> Rook: All you ever do is focus on work, and I can already see the burn-out happening_
> 
> _[2301]_  
>  _Rook: Okay, now I’m 300% sure that you’ve put your phone on DND and started looking at more case files_  
>  _Rook: You literally have no other hobbies_  
>  _Rook: You’re shutting yourself in work but work is exactly what makes you grumpy every time you come in_
> 
> _[0036]  
>  _ _Rook: ...alright, fine. I get it. It’s okay. I’m still here for you._ _  
> Rook: I’ll try again another day!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember how I said this would be about 5 chapters long, Jojo?
> 
> Yeah, that was a lie.
> 
> I'm still going to make fun of Mel for doing it though ~~(she can make fun of me for it right back, if she wants)~~


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Consider this chapter in beta. It's is way longer than I intended it to be, so I'll have to check back later when my mind is fresh and make any necessary edits.

Cassian woke up at the same time as he did every morning and sat down at the island in his kitchen with the same old breakfast in hand:

Toast, whole wheat, with butter and jam.

Turkey bacon, crisp and crunchy.

Two eggs, over easy, salt and pepper with a touch of hot sauce.

Orange, peeled and sliced, pre-refrigerated.

Coffee, black.

Taking the coffee in his right hand, he settled in to his stool and lifted the newspaper he brought in from the pile of items to his left, but paused mid-sip to find Jyn’s piano book underneath it all.

_Crap._

He was supposed to have studied this last night before bed and have it memorized by morning. It wasn’t something to beat himself up over- after all, he still had all of today to read through it- but he found himself mildly irritated by it. Not only was he unable to make even a bit of progress on his cases, but he’d forgotten to make progress on a task as simple as memorizing piano scales.

How could this have slipped his mind? His memory was impeccable, and the assignment had been assigned no less than 24 hours prior.

 _This is inexcusable; the news will have to wait_ , he decided, but as he began to leaf through the piano lesson book, there was a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, like he’d regret choosing his piano homework over the news during his morning ritual before work.

To some degree, he was right.

As he walked out of the precinct’s parking garage and crossed the street to enter the police station, Cassian stopped to notice the swaths of protestors circling the main plaza in front of the tall, glass double-doors. Megaphones screeched and crackled, their messages overlapping each other, and the words from the fervent chanting of the sign-holders became indistinguishable from one another.

Cassian wondered, as he decided to carry forward, hands in his pockets, preparing to cut through the crowd, if Bodhi managed to get to work without getting flustered or harassed by the protestors.

“Murderer!” some screamed at him, but kept their distance from him.

“Police fight for no cause!” another one shouted, daring to step just a bit closer into his personal space.

Cassian stopped in his tracks and his face instinctively resorted to his default blank stare, a mask he wore in front of everyone to maintain the most neutrality possible. He tilted his head up from having looked at the ground and said absolutely nothing, using his relatively tall stature to stare them down.

The noises around him seemed to muffle and fade slightly while time slowed. He looked over the protestor who stood between him and work and made a few quick assessments:

Skin: Pale. Clean overall. No cuts, dirt, or scrapes on fingers. Hands appear to be groomed, recently manicured.

Eyes: Hazel.

Hair: Strawberry blonde.

Age Estimation: College-aged.

Clothing: Brand name. Newly purchased, or hardly worn.

Shoes: Unscuffed. High quality leather. Does not appear to be broken-in.

Physical health: Appears healthy.

The protester posed no threat, and seemed likely to hold a negative view of all who work at the police department, regardless of position. Naturally, then, he decided to act contrary to those preconceived notions.

Still maintaining a face of neutrality but with a tinge of a smile, he said, in as curt yet friendly a voice he believed would be _just enough_ to disarm the student, “Step aside, please.”

Cassian continued to look at the hazel-eyed student, unblinking, maintaining direct eye contact with them, and the student’s body language changed suddenly, as though they were equal parts intimidated and taken aback. It was enough for them to take a few steps to the side and create an opening for Cassian to walk through, however, and he personally took that as a victory.

“Thank you,” he said, using the same curt voice, but with a touch of human sympathy as he continued on his way to the building’s entrance.

There was a braver voice that shouted at him as he very nearly cleared the crowd: “Who do you _serve_ ? Who do you _protect_?!”

As Cassian walked up the steps to the door, which the security guard held open for his entry, he gripped the strap of his messenger bag and wondered if it would have been worth the effort to recount the names of the people he tried so desperately to save and protect from harm.

 _You serve them all, but protect so few_ , he reminded himself.

His thoughts were interrupted by a shout from his desk on the other end of the mezzanine floor. Cassian looked up to find Bodhi waving him over with a cup of coffee in each hand.

 _Starbucks_.

He sighed, then climbed the stairs to their room.

“Feeling a little better since last night?” Bodhi asked, as though he hadn’t deliberately been put on Do Not Disturb to stop the notifications from popping up.

Cassian threw his messenger bag onto his swivel chair and took the cup from Bodhi’s outstretched hand. “Not since the protestors gathered outside. What are they protesting this time?”

“Another account of police brutality late last night. Body cam footage went viral.”

He read the label on the cup:

_CM._

For _ Bohdee. _

Cassian looked back up at Bodhi. “From our precinct?”

Bodhi shook his head. “Devonshire.”

“And yet they’re here?”

He took his seat at the desk facing Cassian’s. “Does it matter? To us? To _them_?”

Cassian took a sip of his drink and immediately regretted it, forcing himself to swallow the overbearing sweetness before his body had a chance to spit it back out. “No, you’re right.”

It was a solemn moment between them, an unspoken concern for the work they were doing and whether or not it was actually helping.

“I’m surprised you didn’t know about this, though! It was all over the news- pretty sure it was even printed in the morning press,” he said with teasingly, nitpicking at Cassian’s habit of reading the news via paper rather than online as part of his morning routine.

“I-” Cassian started, but cut himself short quickly enough to hide what he _really_ did this morning. “Overslept.”

“Bullshit,” Bodhi called, and sat up straighter. “You stayed up late looking at more case files again, weren’t you?”

“No,” Cassian responded flatly, and since he actually responded to that accusation truthfully, he could at least rest easy knowing that his partner couldn’t call him out on the subtle tics he had whenever he tried to lie.

But there was a moment of silence in which Cassian just _knew_ Bodhi was scrutinizing his face as he turned on his workstation computer. He began to spread out the memos from his inbox, paying absolutely no mind to the scrunched eyebrows and pursed lips of the man sitting across from him, but he did feel a bit of relief when Bodhi finally relented and said, “Alright, fine.”

_Bullet dodged._

“So how was piano practice? Tell me more!” Bodhi asked, excitedly switching topics to something equally unpleasant. “Was it hard to learn? What did you guys do?”

Cassian picked the shortest solution that gave away the least amount of details possible. “She went over scales.”

“Oh, a _female_?”

Cassian mentally kicked himself for accidentally revealing information like that.

“What’s she like?” Bodhi continued. “Is she pretty?”

“This isn’t grade school,” Cassian reminded him.

“So, what, she’s ugly?”

He shrugged. “She was normal, I guess. I never bothered to look at her closely.”

“So you’re saying she’s unmemorable?”

Cassian immediately thought of Jyn’s hands as she helped him get adjusted to hand positioning.

“More or less, yeah,” he lied.

“That’s a bummer,” Bodhi responded, not picking up on the fib. “Well, as long as you’re sticking with the program, right? You’re supposed to be working on your emotional wellness, after all!” He took a hearty slurp of his hot caramel macchiato and sighed in satisfaction at having consumed the last drop.

Cassian placed his cup on Bodhi’s desk. “Speaking of wellness, we need to discuss your spending habits.”

Bodhi looked at Cassian incredulously. “Hey! Coffee runs are necessary for my overall wellbeing! I need the caffeine to run at my best! You can’t knock me for this just because I picked financial wellness for the program!”

Cassian would laugh at his attempt at a pearl-clutch if it weren’t for the fact that he, too, had to act as Bodhi’s “accountabili-buddy” for the program. “Starbucks tastes like ass-water.”

“Oh, and the coffee you make in the morning isn’t?”

“Of course it is,” Cassian countered, “But I didn’t pay nearly five bucks for it.” He tapped on Bodhi’s desk and pushed the cup towards him a bit. “Save money- drink cheaper ass-water.”

He pouted, trying his best to look affronted, but the temptation to drink the second caramel macchiato was too strong, and he took the cup and took another hearty sip.

“If it helps,” Cassian offered in appeasement without looking up from his papers, “We can clear some desk space somewhere in here to get you a coffee machine and a bottle of caramel sauce.” He moved his pen away from resting under his lower lip and wagged it at Bodhi. “You basically buy those at least once a day, six days a week. We can shave off an average of $25 a week if we make the swap, and you’ll wind up with an extra $600 or so by the end of the Wellness Program.”

Cassian could sense Bodhi’s eyes lighting up as he lifted slightly from his seat to lean towards him. “You thinking what I’m thinking? I could totally-”

“Put that into savings after you pay off your credit card bill because, once again, you spent more money than you actually _have_.”

There was a clink from the chair’s hydraulics as Bodhi flopped back down onto his seat. He sighed lightly, albeit with a bit of aggravation, ending in resignation. “Alright, alright- best not be a hypocrite, right? Since I’m the one who suggested we all take part.”

“Honestly, Bodhi, _why_ are we doing this? Just because you tried it once for four months and enjoyed it?”

“You know that wasn’t my fault! The chief thought it was a good idea, so she implemented it.”

“And thanks to that, we’re all being _forced_ to ‘be well’,” Cassian clarified with air quotes.

“I, for one, am happy to be on this program for the second time running, despite my complaints,” Bodhi chided, now shuffling through his own stack of papers in his inbox. “ _You_ , on the other hand, have things going on that you keep turning a blind eye to, and I’m not letting you resist this program, no matter how much you piss and moan about it.” He tapped on a few keys to log in to his workstation, and started clicking away. “The least you could do in these six months is learn to be more mindful with yourself, rather than just thinking about others, and find a way to get over your burn-out.”

“I’m not burnt out,” Cassian countered. “And at any rate, being mindful of others is more important.”

“A building with shaky foundations cannot safely house people,” Bodhi shot back.

Cassian frowned slightly and his nostrils flared subtly at the snipe, but rather than give his partner a decisive verbal victory, he simply chose not to say anything at all.

* * *

The second day of piano lessons went smoothly, despite Cassian’s memory hiccup from the night before.

“Well done,” Jyn said gently, a soft smile playing on her lips.

Cassian knew this song and dance- this sort of affirmation and praise encouraged children to keep practicing, even if the road to mastery was so far ahead of them that it was practically unseeable. Her voice was kind, her words selective- it was neither praise nor criticism at the core of it, but left more than enough room to be interpreted as being complimentary. A common method of boosting the self-esteem of a student, surely, but it was unnecessary for him- he was already confident that he could go up and down the scales on each hand at a steady pace just from studying the book he was given. She didn’t need to praise him for something so simple.

So simple, and yet it was hard to ignore the bubbly warmth spreading from his chest to the rest of his body.

“So,” Jyn continued, “now that you’re able to hit the notes on both hands one at a time, we’ll start working on speed and flow.” She positioned her fingers on the keys in front of her and played the scales on both hands simultaneously, going up, then back down.

She turned her head to look at him. “Go ahead and give this a try, with both hands.”

_At the same time?_

A simple task, Cassian thought- one hand at a time was easy enough. Playing with both hands at once should be more or less the same thing.

It was far and away from being the same thing.

Jyn, he noticed, was rather deft at resetting her facial expressions if she ever caught herself making one, but not so swift that he missed the cringe on her face. “Start slow,” she offered. “Go in order, slowly, one note at a time.”

Cassian looked down at his fingers and mentally kicked himself for the rather crappy hand-eye coordination. He couldn’t just emulate what his right hand did with his left hand, finger-for-finger. The scales he performed on a solo hand were so swift, so _smooth_ , so well-executed that Cassian felt like he was thrown three steps back on his own progress because, somehow, he couldn’t get both his hands to move in sync and hit the right notes together. He had to slow down significantly to even pull it off.

There must have been a look on his face that looked even a little bit like panic, because Jyn sidled just a little bit closer to him and said, “Okay, yes, that’s a nice, slow pace, but you want to be able to do this…”

He watched her hands begin to cover his own, but she stopped short of contact. “Would you mind if I assisted you?”

Cassian flipped a hand over as a “go ahead” gesture.

Jyn then took that same hand and flipped it over.

Suddenly Cassian was aware of the body contact between them. Her hand was warm, and her thigh pressed more firmly against his. He attempted to scoot aside to make more room for her when she stopped him.

“I don’t bite,” she teased.

He gave a short chuckle and scooted back, but part of him was wary of the way her voice lilted that made him think that, perhaps at one point, she _had_. But they were here, in a piano studio, with the afternoon light filtering in through the large overheard windows and an unlocked door just ahead of them. She was but one human- surely if she actually bit, he could flee if he wanted to.

 _Really? You’re actually planning an escape if she bites?_ he asked himself, immediately feeling a tad embarrassed at having entertained the thought at all.

Jyn’s hands rested gently on top of his and she pressed on his fingers again, one-by-one. He was caught off-guard by her technique, however- when it was time to tuck his right thumb in, she used her own thumb to push his under his hand as a signal to change positioning. Her hand had essentially cupped his, and he became even more acutely aware of how small her hands were: small, soft, unscarred.

They continued on for two more notes, until it was time for his left middle finger to move up the scale. This time, she tucked her own middle finger under his, and nudged it upward. There was a bit of a personality to it, he noticed- the little bump of her finger was gentle and encouraging, as though the finger had personified and told his finger, “Go on, you can do it!”. What was even sillier about the whole thing was that his middle finger responded in kind by doing a little hop over his thumb and then continued on his way to the end of the scale.

Yet, as silly and seemingly unnecessary this whole process was, even sillier so because they had spent most of the hour doing just this, he managed to play the scales on both hands at once, up and down, just like she had instructed him to, with ten minutes to spare. In the grand scheme of things, this was still an accomplishment by any means, but for Cassian, this became a point of frustration. He was still here reluctantly, building up a skill he wasn’t particularly interested in learning, but now that he’s here, he still had no idea why they were still going over the simplest of concepts, let alone why it was taking him longer than expected to even pull it off on his own.

Cassian was caught in a cycle of frustration, tossing about between a desire to do well in everything he did and wanting to get everything over with so he wouldn’t have to attempt this again.

“It’s important that you learn how to navigate blindly with your fingers independently,” she explained with a kind smile.

His fingers pressed into his thigh- how did she know what he was thinking?

“Frankly, I think you’re overthinking this,” Jyn continued, her voice dipping a bit lower. There was a trace of candidness in that statement as it did so, and Cassian arched an eyebrow at her curiously. Whether it was because he desired an explanation of her statement or an exploration of her character, he wasn’t quite sure, but he refused to allow himself the time nor energy to entertain it, and he pushed the thought aside.

“You need to tap into your intuition and let your feelings guide you,” she explained after a beat. Fingers poised above the keys, she took a small breath and played a short tune. Her fingers flowed as they scaled up and down, supple movements like a trickling stream of water. The melody was playful, yet weighted, and Cassian realized that she was improvising on a tune he heard Bodhi blast once on the radio. His head turned and tilted slightly, trying not to look too impressed at her agile fingers (this was her _job_ to play this skillfully, after all, and he didn’t want to come off as condescending by staring too hard at her), but it was taking a bit more effort than expected to look laidback.

Well, she managed to demonstrate her point pretty well, at least.

She turned to look at him with a smile, a small spark of excitement twinkling in her eyes. “Scales are needed to be able to pull off songs like these. Practice the scales, and the movement and speed of them, and you’ll have the foundation you need to play other songs, or even improv,” she said as she gestured to the piano, as if she really wanted to add, “like what I did just now!”

The twinkle in her eyes and the unspoken excitement was an amusing detail to catch, however small it was, but it continued to linger in his mind, even after she flipped through the flimsy textbook to check for its contents.

“Hmm,” Jyn hummed with concern, “I can’t actually proceed with the next assignment until you get the scales mastered.” She then put the book back on top of the piano, making a soft swishing noise as she pushed it a little ways back. “Please practice more, and we’ll continue from there next week.” Jyn’s lips were pressed together, curved upwards into the same smile she’d given from the day they met, and slight lines marked the corners.

 _Her lips were pressed together_.

Cassian’s lashes fluttered a couple of times as it dawned on him that she’d never actually shown her teeth, as though each smile came with a secret that she had to seal her lips for.

His eyes flicked upwards slightly and noticed that her eyes were only slightly squinted, rather than full-on crinkling at the corners and lifted from the lower lids.

This was a smile he knew too well: _a politician’s smile_.

She stood up and put her grey woolen stole back on, the fringes swaying as the fabric dangled off her small frame, and she proceeded to open the door for him.

“Oh,” Cassian remembered suddenly, and pulled out a sheet of paper from the last lesson. “Do you think you can sign off on this, too?”

“Oh yes, that’s right,” she said, and walked back to the piano to grab a pen and scrawl her signature in the designated slot. When she handed it back, she stopped in front of him and looked at him curiously. “So, tell me again why you’re taking these lessons?”

“I have to participate in a wellness program for work, and my par- _coworker_ \- suggested I take piano lessons to address a pillar of wellness that I chose.” Cassian was careful not to refer to Bodhi as his “partner” to stop Jyn from making an incorrect assumption about his romantic life.

“Oh really?” she asked, eyebrows lifting slightly in surprise. “Work-mandated wellness program...that’s a first,” she said with a small laugh. Jyn held up the paper for him to take, but even as he took the paper out of her hands, she continued to look up at him, as though she wasn’t done with their conversation.

“Yeah,” Cassian replied casually, “I’m not entirely convinced it’s going to help, but since I like my job, I need to at least give it the old college try.”

Her head tilted, and her response was quick. “What pillar did you pick?”

“Emotional wellness,” he said. “Picked it out of a hat.”

She hummed in return, just a tad unconvinced. Rather than follow up with another question, however, Jyn continued to look at him eye-to-eye.

He was engaged in a staredown with this rather tiny woman- even when he had _just_ realized that her smiles and overall demeanor felt like a costume or a mask of some sort, her eyes searched his with a genuinely harmless curiosity. Her eyelashes, much like his just a minute ago, fluttered a few times; she, too, was attempting to read _him_ with her large round eyes. He noted that their color was striking, but neither ice cold nor invitingly warm, an in-between shade of green and blue. Her gaze, just as much as the rest of her, teetered suspiciously on the fence between innocence and danger, a careful balance between the two qualities, but for what, he _still_ couldn’t determine.

Cassian really had to give her credit where it was due- she was quietly going toe-to-toe with him in her attempts to understand him better when he refused to reveal too much, too soon himself.

There was a pregnant silence between them that caused the air to become somewhat palpable, and his chest tightened at the restricted breathing he didn’t realize he’d been doing.

“Well,” Jyn said finally, “It helps greatly if you worked towards emotional wellness; playing an instrument requires you to tap into an emotion on the fly. Without that, your performance comes off inflexible.” She smiled that calculated smile again. “Your partner picked out a good activity for you to get in touch with that side of you, so hopefully you do manage to address your chosen pillar of wellness.”

He chuckled. “Well, we’ll see.”

“I would hope so,” she teased back. “It’d be a shame if you wasted money on these lessons and didn’t have anything to show for it!” The pair walked towards the studio’s entrance and Jyn propped the door open for him once more. “Until next week,” she said, and Cassian bowed his head towards her as he ventured back outside and breathed in the cool, early evening air.

* * *

Cassian leaned back on his couch later that night and stretched. He’d been poring over cold case files again, this time a different manila envelope with a different victim, a different weak lead, a different mystery to solve. He was so close to coming up with a new angle, a new dot to connect in his mind, but his thoughts remained in the air as he continued to struggle grabbing them to form anything substantial.

There was a muffled buzzing from the couch cushions, and he looked to the side to find his phone light up: _Bodhi Rook_.

He picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey man!” Bodhi said back, a little _too_ cheerful given the hour of the day.

“What’s with the burst of energy at this hour?”

A pause. “Dude, it’s only 10:30.”

“As in, quiet hours?” Cassian teased.

He could practically hear Bodhi rolling his eyes. “Stop being so uptight and extra at the same time; you free to talk?”

Cassian glanced at the photos of the torn-up crime scene on the coffee table in front of him. Given that he made no additional progress, he decided the case could wait just a little while longer. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“Just checking in with you for the week as your accountabili-buddy!”

He sighed. Cassian was already regretting answering the phone. “Alright, what do you want to know?”

“You attended your lessons today, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And how do you feel about them?”

Despite knowing that Bodhi couldn’t see him, he shrugged.

And, despite Bodhi not having seen him, somehow he knew, and was quick to fire back. “I know you shrugged just now, and you know that’s not helpful for this process.”

Cassian slumped slightly, settling into the squishy cushions. “Bodhi, this whole thing is pointless. I’m comfortable with my life, and I couldn’t ask for anything more. Nothing is missing; I am _not_ empty anywhere.”

“It’s not a matter of unfulfillment,” Bodhi argued. “It has everything to do with assessing what you think is just a little off-balance from the rest of your life, and doing something to bring your overall wellbeing back _into_ balance. And, according to you, your emotional wellbeing isn’t quite as up there as the rest of your traits.”

“I already told you- I picked it out of a hat and went with it. I didn’t think you were going to take it seriously.”

“Detective Cassian Andor? Not doing things seriously? Yeah, and I saw a unicorn shitting rainbows at the park today,” Bodhi deadpanned.

Cassian paused briefly, trying to find a way to change the subject. “Well, I learned the scales this week.”

He took the bait. “Oooh! I remember when I was forced to learn piano as a kid- I _cried_ because my fingers just didn’t cooperate with me. Was it difficult for you?”

“It was alright,” Cassian responded, relaxing his shoulders in a sigh of relief. “Just couldn’t do the scales with both hands at the same time.”

“Ah, yeah, that’s always tricky, but I remember it made things a hell of a lot easier when I just learned to let go and trust my gut.”

He sat up a little straighter. “So it’s possible to overthink it and then just do terribly?”

“Oh yeah, for sure,” Bodhi confirmed, clearly comfortable with the subject. “I wanted you to take these piano lessons because you’re supposed to learn to sort of feel in the moment, trust your gut, and let your emotions guide you. You can learn all the theory if you want to, and you’re good at that, but the key to good execution is the emotion you put into it. It’s easy to ruin _Chopsticks_ if you can’t get in a playful state of mind.”

Something told Cassian that he’d eventually learn what “chopsticks” meant in a piano context, so he shrugged it off in the meantime.

“Anyway,” Bodhi continued. “It seems like two piano lessons aren’t enough to get you closer to making the sort of progress I had in mind, so let’s try this: how did the lessons make you feel?”

“Bored.”

“I’m asking you how felt in the moment, not your opinion of the lessons,” he quipped. “Come on, Cassian, take this seriously.”

“I _am_ ,” Cassian emphasized, and he ruffled his hair with his free hand in frustration. “I was bored. This whole thing is so mundane that I feel nothing.”

There was a pensive silence on Bodhi’s end as he attempted to come up with a new angle to approach the conversation.

“Alright,” Bodhi tried again. “How’s your instructor? And _don’t_ say she’s ‘boring’; how does her presence and interactions with you make you feel?”

Cassian hesitated to answer.

“I’m not ending this phone conversation until you actually give this an honest effort,” Bodhi said again, flatly.

Should he tell him? _Could_ he tell him? Was there even a real reason for him to tell Bodhi how he really felt about Jyn? That he finds her rather odd, that her presence is comforting and concerning all at once? That her moments of honesty seem to be mixed with lies he couldn’t even figure out? That he found her all the more intriguing because of it?

 _Intrigue..._ that _was new._

“She…” Cassian said slowly, darting his tongue out to consider his next words, “makes me feel a little confused. Her style of teaching is different than anything I’ve gone through, so it makes me uncomfortable, but she’s nice, so it’s comfortable at the same time.”

Bodhi considered this answer. “Huh. I see. And what does she do that’s different?”

“She’s sort of hands-on, for starters.”

“‘Hands-on’?”

“Yeah, she’d put her hands on top of mine to play the keys, like she believed that if she touched my hands, the wisdom or something would transfer onto my own hands so that I could play better.”

Bodhi laughed. “Okay, now you’re just fucking with me.”

“Take it as you will,” Cassian offered with another shrug that he was sure Bodhi sensed. “That’s how it felt, and it’s different. I’m not used to that, so I don’t know if I like it.”

“Hmm, well...alright. Fine. That’s a good start,” Bodhi conceded. “You’ve talked about this a lot more than I expected, so I say this is a really good start!” he said again with a more upbeat tone. “Thanks for giving it the old college try, man. I’ll make my report and leave you be. You can follow up with my week later, if you want.”

“Yeah, I think I’ll do that,” he said, trailing off absentmindedly as he considered his own words. “I’ll call you in a couple of days about that.”

“Alright, well, nite buddy! Don’t work too hard on those cases. Everybody’s working for the weekend, but that doesn’t mean you have to _work for the weekend_ ,” Bodhi reminded him before hanging up.

Cassian set his phone down and looked at the documents on the coffee table again, but he couldn’t focus on any one detail, not with other thoughts occupying his mind. The phone conversation echoed back into his mind, mixed with the memories of his lessons with Jyn.

_“She makes me a little confused.”_

He remembered the way she looked at him- eyes large, curious but calculating, scanning and reading him for anything he could be hiding between the lines of his external cover, just as he did towards her.

_“She’s sort of hands-on, for starters.”_

He remembered the feel of Jyn’s hands- soft, warm, smooth- on his own.

_“Like she believed that if she touched my hands, the wisdom would transfer onto my own so that I could play better.”_

And as he lie in bed, staring up at the dark, empty ceiling of his room, he remembered the way she pressed down on his fingers- one-by-one, gently each time, her small palms cupping the back of his hand in order to encourage his thumb and middle fingers to keep going and complete the scales exercise.

If he thought about it, if he _really_ thought about it, Cassian could admit that he spent an inordinate amount of mental energy fixating on Jyn and the way she carried herself. He could- quietly, anyway- admit that the feel of her hands lingered on his mind for longer than he ever thought was possible.

And, if he really, _really_ thought about it, he might come to admit that he rather _liked_ the way Jyn’s hands felt whenever they touched his.

It was mundane physical contact, hands touching hands.

It was a common sensation, her undamaged hands smoothing over his calloused ones.

It was a gesture that was unspectacular, practical, and completely devoid of any deeper meaning.

As Cassian’s eyelids grew too heavy to stay open, he thought back to each of those mundane, unspectacular, practical times, and he admitted- finally- that he really _did_ like the feel of her hands.


	3. Chapter 3

The light of early morning had only just begun to peek through the windows of Cassian’s precinct as he climbed up the stairs to his desk on the mezzanine. The building was still mostly quiet- there was a soft shuffle of sleepy footsteps here and there throughout the building, and the occasional flipping of papers and sighs of fatigue mixed into an adagio that has been so lovingly named by Bodhi and others as “The Calm Before the Storm”. Once people started waking up from their slumber, the buzzing and noise would only get louder, and although that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, Cassian still relished the calm with a hot mug in his hand.

He took a sip- the coffee was black, bitter, and wonderfully piping hot, made from the basic coffee maker Bodhi brought in yesterday. It wasn’t a terrible blend- the flavor was deep and dark, with a chocolate aftertaste that sent a warmth through his body. He did insist that Bodhi should further save money by buying cheap ground coffee, but Bodhi pushed back on the idea, arguing that “If I’m going to be forced to make coffee on my own, I should at least spend some of that money on better beans”.

Cassian had to admit- it _was_ worth the investment. Marveling at the brew in his hand, he smacked his lips in satisfaction. It was a simple pleasure to have coffee this fresh in the morning- the fact that he had to be in his office before the crack of dawn was annoying enough as it is, especially since it meant he didn’t get to eat breakfast. He was close to losing focus and staring blankly at the cursor on his monitor, which blinked rhythmically on cell G67.

This wasn’t even his job anymore, yet here he sat, picking up the mess of yet another detective who shirked their responsibilities out of sheer laziness, preventing him from carrying on with his own task. He would have to bring this up with the chief again, but-

 _You complained about something like this just last month_ , he reminded himself.

The temptation was strong, certainly, but after some contemplative silence and another sip of coffee, he decided that perhaps it was for the best he not complain. It was more important that the work ultimately got done- getting upset over something as minor as data entry wasn’t worth the tanking of morale within the ranks. As long as everyone collectively contributed to the safety of the city, that’s all that mattered, even if he had to sleep earlier than usual just to report for work earlier in the morning to play catch-up, even if it meant he was doing someone else’s work for the sake of the department, even if-

_Even if it meant not practicing your scales for your piano lesson._

He froze. How could he have forgotten to practice more? He did manage to get some in after coming home from practice two days ago, but when he was blindsided with an extra pile of work at the end of the day yesterday, he’d completely forgotten about piano practice and focused on mentally preparing for the pile of papers that now sat in front of him. And even then, that one measly session of practice ended with him still unable to play the scales on both hands simultaneously to the level that Jyn expected of him.

Could he even set aside time before his lessons with her after work today? Perhaps if he powered through this paperwork and got some of his follow-up calls done by lunch, he could rush home and take an extra 30 minutes to practice, and then wrap up the rest of his tasks for the rest of his work day, assuming no other surprises pop up before clocking out.

He got to work, dutifully scanning the paperwork for the only details necessary to fill out the spreadsheet.

* * *

The progress was good. Too good, perhaps. In fact, Cassian was so absorbed in his work that he hadn’t realized the time until Bodhi waved a hand in front of his face. He snapped back, startled, and found that the sun had fully peeked from the horizon and shining annoyingly through all the windows of the precinct and through their own office windows.

“Hey buddy,” Bodhi said sweetly, using that same voice he used on civilians at the edge of their patience because they weren’t familiar with the amount of debilitating bureaucracy behind their line of work.

Cassian rolled his eyes at his saccharine tone. “Come off it, Bodhi.”

Bodhi laughed and patted him roughly on the shoulder. “Man, I gotta say, Cassian, I cannot believe you actually showed up at the precinct early to get this taken care of!” He eyed Cassian’s mug, which had been empty for goodness knows how long now, and picked it up. “Get you another cup?”

Cassian nodded wearily. “Please.”

The liquid elixir of relief came fast- Cassian felt like he only blinked before finding Bodhi extended the mug back to him. He stared at Bodhi’s fingers, which curled around the mug handle, and, in his early-morning brain-dead stupor, he was reminded of someone else’s hands. The steam gently wafted up from the mug like a cloud, soft and fluffy, and Cassian’s mind wandered back to the memory of Jyn’s touch- feather-light, gentle, and soft. Like the coffee, it coaxed him into action, but in a tender way that spread warmth through his body and encouraged him to move forward.

He still couldn’t believe it: all that from the most mundane of actions.

It was such a foreign feeling to him. _Why_ was it such a foreign feeling to him? Had he gone _that long_ without this kind of physical contact that he just came to react sensitively to her touch?

He had to test it.

Without a word or any sort of warning, Cassian curiously clasped both his hands around Bodhi’s.

Bodhi stiffened, and Cassian felt Bodhi’s grip tighten around the mug, but he persisted in holding his hand, squeezing it gently between his palms before smoothing over the back of his hand. Bodhi’s hand wasn’t terribly soft, but they were, at the very least, not marred with rough patches and callouses in the way his own hands were.

“Cassian?” Bodhi asked nervously. “You alright?”

Cassian snapped out of it. “Huh? Oh, right, sorry. I was just…” He moved his hands so that they cupped the mug instead, freeing Bodhi’s hand, before taking it in and placing it on his desk.

“You just?”

“Just wanted to confirm something,” Cassian said distractedly.

Bodhi eyed him incredulously. “…And did that help you confirm what you wanted?”

Cassian couldn’t answer the question, and responded only with a head tilt and a contemplative, but unhopeful hum. He would speak with more clarity if he could, but even he didn’t know how to begin explaining things. Cassian wasn’t sure what, exactly, he even wanted to confirm. There certainly _was_ some stirring of emotion from holding Bodhi’s hand, but…it wasn’t the same reaction as with Jyn. Perhaps it had to do with softness? Bodhi’s hands were certainly softer than his own, but still rougher than hers.

If it came down to it, he didn’t dislike the feel of Bodhi’s hands, but…he also didn’t explicitly _like_ it. Contact with Bodhi didn’t make him uncomfortable, but it also didn’t leave him with the same feeling of comfort and warmth he felt with his piano instructor.

 _It has to be a fluke_ , he thought.

Maybe he was finally getting used to this type of contact. It seemed like a reasonable conclusion; he’d gone without being meaningfully touched in so long that perhaps he was just experiencing a shock of sorts.

 _It’ll fade out over time_ , Cassian reasoned with himself. He’d be desensitized to it over time, surely.

He looked again at Bodhi, who was stirring globs of caramel sauce into his coffee. Bodhi took a sip and smacked his lips thoughtfully, assessing the flavor of his concoction. There was a furrow in his eyebrows, signaling dissatisfaction, but it didn’t last long- he shrugged and said to himself, “Eh, good enough,” and sat down at his desk.

* * *

A few more hours had passed, and Cassian finally managed to tear through the paperwork and wrap up his phone calls. “Alright, thanks for answering my follow-up questions, Cherise, I’m going to put this into my notes and do some more digging. If anything comes up, please do not hesitate to send me an email, alright?” Cassian said, going through the typical spiel as he jotted down more notes on his pad. The scribbling was furious, his focus entirely on writing every last bit of notes before they dissipated from his mind, but his voice was neutral, if slightly kind. It was the kind of professionalism expected of him as a detective- do not make promises, much less even sound like things are going well. Things are just _going_ , and the more level he can keep matters, the easier it will be to bring bad news if it came.

 _Which is happening way more often than it should_ , he admitted to himself with a sigh as he hung up the phone.

But he had no time to dwell on that stress- he had to head home for lunch and at least do _some_ amount of practice before lessons.

He grabbed his favorite jacket- dark leather, weathered from the years he’s cared for it- off the back of his chair and slung it over his forearm before grabbing his messenger bag. “I’m taking a long lunch. I need to practice for piano lessons,” he announced with a hurry.

Cassian was two steps away from the door when he caught Bodhi swivel around in his chair. “Um, what about that meeting?”

He stopped, already under the doorframe. “What meeting?”

Bodhi’s brow quirked. “The one that you asked me about an hour ago?”

“I- what?”

Cassian rushed back to his desk and found, on his calendar, a bright-red highlight: _Department Meeting with Lieutenant Draven_.

He closed his eyes and sighed deeply- he hadn’t even set a reminder for this like he usually did.

“Yeah,” Bodhi said, peeking out from the computers between them. You said we were gonna leave-“ he checked for the time- “in five minutes.”

 _Right._ “Right.”

Bodhi picked up on the intonation of that single syllable, and frowned. “I mean,” he said pacifyingly, “you could just take your long lunch afterwards.”

He dropped his bag and jacket back onto his chair, letting it roll away from his desk, and grabbed his notebook, pen, and a binder from a small shelf to the left of his desk. A cover page was neatly printed and displayed on the front: _Work Meeting Notes & Minutes_.

“We’ll see,” he mumbled, and gestured for Bodhi to come along.

The duo proceeded to the designated meeting room in silence, and although that in itself wasn’t anything new, Cassian’s silence was underlined by the ever-magnifying unease in his gut. His attention was elsewhere, his mind distracted, as he frantically tried to figure out how much time he had left before his piano lesson, down to the minute. Between this, an actual meal his mind desperately needed, and all the rounds he had to make before the end of his work day, he searched for ways to optimize his time, just to see if he could squeeze in even a few minutes to fit piano practice in.

“Detective Andor.”

Cassian blinked and found himself sitting around the table with his colleagues; every single one of them looked at him expectantly, including Bodhi, who knowingly raised his eyebrows higher than the others.

“Yes, sir?”

Lieutenant Draven’s head tilted just slightly, regarding his reaction. Cassian could shoot himself in the foot for how clueless he sounded just then- even his own superior noticed his unusual behavior.

“Are you willing to take it on, or not?” he asked, seemingly yet again.

What exactly was Cassian supposed to say?

He cleared his throat and rapidly blinked a few times to re-focus before looking up at Lieutenant Draven, who stood stiffly with his hands behind his back. Although they were about equal height, the lieutenant seemed to tower over the seated detective.

His eyes drifted down to his notepad, which was surprisingly filled despite having no recollection of having written anything down. Try as he might to skim through the notes from top to bottom, however, the pages failed to reveal a hint as to what Draven might have been asking.

So he had no choice but to concede. “I’m sorry, sir, could you clarify what you need me to take on?”

There was an uneasy shifting of weight in at least half the chairs behind him. One of them inhaled sharply to hold their breath.

The lieutenant eyed Cassian, eyebrows scrunching slightly at disbelief. It was an understandable reaction- Cassian always sat in the front of the group, his meeting notes were impeccably written, and he was typically the most responsive to Draven’s questions. Today was an anomaly, without a doubt.

“In case anyone else dozed off during this meeting,” Draven suddenly boomed and the others, causing Bodhi to jump slightly in his seat, “To the surprise of absolutely _no one,_ Manford bit off more than he could chew again and is forced to unload three of his cases. Is anyone-“ and his body swung as he pivoted to look at Cassian again- “willing to help him out and take them on?”

Cassian frowned. He knew _exactly_ what Draven was going to say next.

“Given your stellar record,” Draven continued after Cassian failed to respond right away, “I’m asking if you’re able to take on additional cases to your workload.”

He could say “no”. The option was there- it was a simple response, a simple syllable, a simple two-letter word that could never be taken as a four-letter one.

And yet-

“Of course, sir, if that’s what will help our department, I’ll follow up with these other cases,” he said in his best level-headed, professional tone.

Draven nodded- the man was never one to smile, after all- and turned his attention back to the room at large. “Alright; you can all thank Detective Andor for his resilience of taking up to the task. Should any one of you be seeking promotion to sergeant, we may feel compelled to remind you of this moment.”

The room was silent again as he scanned the room, regarding each detective individually. Some shifted their weight, and the chairs creaked uncomfortably once more.

“Get to lunch,” Draven said finally, and the shuffle of chairs was the fastest reaction he could get out of them the whole time.

Cassian hurriedly sorted his loose papers into his binder and tried to stand, but the lieutenant stopped him.

“Detective Andor, a word?”

_Really? Now?_

_No, I_ don’t _have time._

“Yes, sir?” he said instead.

Draven glanced at the departing crowd, and as the door gently shut, he looked back at Cassian. “Are you sure you’re alright picking up these additional cases?” he asked, his tone now lacking the intensity displayed at the department meeting.

Cassian nodded. “Of course, sir. Wouldn’t have accepted them otherwise.”

He knew that was barely sufficient as an answer, judging by the way Draven scanned his face for any subtle cracks in his confidence, but was there really any choice for him _but_ to take it? It didn’t take much to look back at Draven head-on, his face neutral but determined, and the lieutenant eventually relented.

“If you say so,” said Draven, still unconvinced by the show of confidence.

_Good, I can leave now._

“Tell me,” he continued, “How’s your wellness program coming along?”

Cassian tried to suppress a sigh. “It’s coming along,” he responded flatly.

Draven arched an eyebrow. “It’s just ‘coming along’?”

“It’s hard to determine if progress is being made just after the first week.”

“You don’t believe in it,” Draven responded, cutting straight to his point.

Cassian stiffened. “I believe that I am obligated to finish the tasks given to me as required by the department.”

Draven didn’t answer back, but instead looked at him expectantly, waiting, practically baiting him to elaborate.

 _Fair enough, so be it_ , thought Cassian, and, dutifully maintaining his neutral face and voice, he added with finality, “And thus my opinions on these assignments are irrelevant, so long as I complete them satisfactorily.”

He continued to look back at Draven almost unblinkingly. It was the truth, after all- the piano lessons weren’t going to help him get closer to saving lives and helping people, but he’d sooner shoot himself in the foot than fall short of expectations for a work task. He wasn’t _Manford_.

There was so much to do, but the fact that he was having this conversation with Lieutenant Draven at all was making it that much harder to get his tasks done.

Cassian cleared his throat after a beat. “If it’s alright with you, sir, I’d like to continue with my day. Got a lot to do, after all.”

That seemed to snap Draven out of his scrutinizing stare. “Yes, very well, Andor, of course. You did just take on extra cases, after all. See to it that Manford gives you all his files before you leave for the day, and get started on those phone calls.”

_Right, the extra cases._

* * *

Manford certainly didn’t waste any time dropping off a near-empty box of loose papers and folders at Cassian’s desk.

“Better you than me, Andor,” he said with a smile, but Cassian knew better than to take that grin at face value.

Cassian’s face remained neutral as he nodded curtly. “Yes,” he responded, lifting the box off his desk to stop the dirt from further tracking on his papers and dropping it unceremoniously onto the floor between them. “It really is a shame that competency isn’t your strong-suit, but it’s always nice to know I’m able to help.”

Manford straightened up. “Come again, Andor?”

“Oh, well, it’s not so bad,” Cassian shrugged. “At least you won’t get fired for it.” He returned the smile with one of his own- a politician’s smile, of course- and patted Manford on the shoulder. “As long as you don’t kill someone, right?”

His colleague dusted Cassian’s hand off and chuckled lightly. “Don’t be silly, Andor- we both know that suspension’s just for show. The boys at Devonshire will still have their jobs when the dust settles.”

“You’re right,” he said, trying his best not to hide his contempt for Manford’s laidback attitude on the matter. “It’s _all_ for show.”

“Don’t work yourself to death, though,” Manford pointed out as he headed for the door. “Precincts always need little angels like you and Little Miss Sunshine here-“

“Hey!” Bodhi cut in.

“-so the show can go on.”

Cassian bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from lunging at Manford, settling instead for watching the door shut.

“Don’t let him get under your skin, Cassian,” Bodhi said soothingly. “The man got salty; Manford’s wrong.”

He shook his head. “That’s precisely the problem, Bodhi,” he sighed.

_The problem is that Manford is right._

* * *

The extra work sucked up every second of his time, even when he cut his lunch down to a mere fifteen minutes, but before Cassian could think much about it, it was already time for him to grab his leather jacket and messenger bag once more to clock out for the day.

“Have fun at piano lessons today!” Bodhi called out, giving Cassian a cheery nod as he stepped out.

Cassian grimaced inwardly as he walked on, fully knowing that he was heading to Jyn’s studio without having had sufficient practice.

It was unlike him to show up to anything unprepared.

 _If you’re not at 100%, you’re useless_ , he told himself, time and time again, but it got him so far in life that it was proof that the saying had power. If he couldn’t complete these piano lessons, it’d count against him in the wellness program- and, by extension, work. Marks against him at work would bar him from promotion. He couldn’t afford that, not when there was still so much more work for him to do, so many people to help-

_“It’s all for show.”_

_“Precincts always need little angels like you so the show can go on.”_

The stress only climbed higher as he drove closer and closer to the studio. Would she even sign off on his attendance if he couldn’t improve fast enough?

He would find out soon enough.

* * *

“Remind me again,” Jyn asked as Cassian failed to do his scales properly _yet again,_ for the second lesson in a row, “Why are you taking these lessons?”

“Mandatory wellness program,” he responded curtly.

Cassian had shown up to lessons after yet another draining work day, which was just as draining as it was the day before, and the day before that. Although Jyn was understanding of his circumstances and signed off on his attendance sheet anyway, he was spending yet another hour this week with her, stuck on the same lessons as last week, rather than using the time to work on the extra cases Manford dumped on him. If he was honest with himself, this whole thing still felt like a waste of time, made worse by the fact that Jyn refused to move on until he mastered the scales the way she wanted him to.

The whole thing irritated him; whenever he stepped through the doors of Jyn’s studio for lessons, it was like he stepped into a safety bubble nestled in the middle of the real world, blissfully unaware of the dangers and violence outside. It was as though it- and by extension, Jyn- existed to fool people by having them buy into an image of false serenity. And the fact that Jyn put up a mask of her own to continually make money by selling this image rubbed him the wrong way. Jyn’s airy voice and the curiosity behind the gentle prodding of his personal business was starting to get on his nerves, and Cassian found his patience for this charade slipping even further.

Jyn hummed, her voice ever-delicate, and there was a moment of silence before she spoke up. “And what do you hope to achieve by taking these lessons, exactly?”

“To get through them so I finish the program.”

The cheery glow in her eyes dimmed slightly. “So you don’t actually care about seeking emotional wellness in these lessons?”

“Look, Jyn, I appreciate the patience you have with me- believe me- but even if I had a truly personal investment in this program, there’s no way learning a musical skill will actually get anyone towards emotional wellness. We’re at lesson number four now, but everything still feels the same- I’m not any closer to achieving this ‘goal’.”

She stared. Her face was steady, unblinking, and her fingertips still delicately rested on the white keys.

Part of Cassian wanted to stop talking and just leave it at that, but his fatigue was getting the better of him, and the words just continued to pour out: “I’m just here to do a job, and once that’s done, I go on to the next one. I’m trying my best, and I sit down to practice when I can, but when I have a lot of other things to take care of, piano is the farthest thing from my mind. This doesn’t actually help people, but my day job does, and I take that far more seriously.”

Jyn finally blinked, and her lips pursed, but she still kept her face on the friendly side of neutral.

Cassian bit his tongue. Had he gone too far with that statement? Although he didn’t mean to bluntly tell her off, he’d be lying if he said otherwise. When she blinked again, he marveled at her ability to remain calm even when he was absolutely sure that his words were an affront to her chosen profession and nothing short of a verbal slap across the face. It wasn’t anything personal, certainly, but he just wanted the day to end already; he could take the weekend to blow off steam and get his head in gear, then start anew next week.

He held his breath, and hoped she would understand.

“Alright, I think we’re done here,” she said, breaking the silence with the cadence he’d grown accustomed to hearing.

_That’s it?_

She really _was_ too kind.

Cassian stood up from the piano bench and grabbed his bag. “I’m so glad you understand, thank you so much Jyn-“

“I’ll need the piano book back.”

“Oh, am I going to be studying from another book?” he asked.

She shook her head and smiled with her lips pressed the same way as they did before. “No- like I said, we’re done here.”

Cassian stopped cold. _Wait-_

“I hope I didn’t waste too much of your personal time.”

He placed a hand on his back pocket and felt the thick folded paper of his attendance sheet. “Are you _dumping_ me as a student?”

Jyn’s head tilted innocently, and her voice remained eerily light and cheerful. “Of course not. Dumping you would imply that you actually _wanted_ this relationship.”

It was then that Cassian realized: her airiness wasn’t a weakness. In fact, it was a lightweight weapon, sharp and precise. He finally understood then that hidden under her soft features were rough edges, and for the first time since meeting her, he felt a legitimate trickle of fear towards the tiny woman who now stood in front of him.

“Since my occupation is of little value to you-” she continued, letting her boots clack gently on the wooden floor as she grabbed her grey woolen stole off the coat rack, “-and you’re not interested in utilizing your wellness program as it was intended-“ she said as she placed her soft, pale hand on the studio door handle, “-it’s in my best interest to make sure you don’t waste any more time here than you already have.”

Jyn pushed the door open, letting the cold air of reality rush in to the safe bubble of the piano studio, and the sharpness cut Cassian across his cheekbones. The loose strands of Jyn’s hair, however, merely danced in the breeze before settling back down to frame her face, as though the cold never touched her at all. Rather, the breeze had fanned a flame in her that seemed to have been kept dormant for too long, and the warmth in her eyes soon became a little _too_ warm.

“No worries, Cassian- since you only attended four lessons, I’ll send you a refund for the 44 that you won’t be attending,” she said with finality, and her smile widened, but it was the politician’s smile all over again, and the room grew even colder.

Cassian was left speechless. What was even there to _say_?

He did the only thing he _could_ do at this point: walk out.

* * *

“It’s the end of the week, Cassian!” Bodhi said too-cheerfully on the phone.

Cassian sunk into the couch, fresh from the shower, and winced at Bodhi’s volume. “Bodhi, it’s _quiet hours_ \- take it down a few notches.”

“Cassian, it’s _Friday_ \- learning to live a little is essential to your emotional wellness.”

It was only at the mention of emotional wellness did Cassian realize the pickle he put himself in.

_“I’ll send you a refund for the 44 that you won’t be attending.”_

In the heat of the moment, he hadn’t given it more thought, but he sunk even deeper into his couch when it dawned on him that his impatience and stupidity left him without additional piano lessons, and therefore no clear path to completing the wellness program.

_If you’re not at 100%, then you’re useless._

He couldn’t even finish all of his piano lessons.

 _Useless_.

Even if he were to argue that he spent extra time picking up after Manford’s mess, Draven’s words persisted in his mind:

_“Should any one of you be seeking promotion to sergeant, we may feel compelled to remind you of this moment.”_

In criticizing Jyn’s occupation as being unimportant, he'd inadvertently given her an incredible amount of power as the all-important gatekeeper to the future of his career.

He had to make amends. He had to ask her to take him back.

His phone beeped and he checked the phone screen: Jyn was calling him.

“Bodhi, I gotta go- I left something at the piano studio and the teacher’s calling me back,” he lied. “I think she found it.”

Cassian hung up and switched calls before Bodhi could get a word in. “Hello? Jyn?”

“Ah, Cassian,” Jyn said with a hint of surprise. “Didn’t think you’d actually pick up.”

“Look, Jyn,” he started, sitting up straight. “I just wanted to apologize for my behavior today, and-“

“Like I said, no worries,” she interrupted him. “I was just calling to say that I’ve wired the remaining fees back to you.”

“But-“

“Since it’s Friday, the funds won’t show up until sometime Tuesday, I think.”

“Jyn, please-“

“I wish you the best of luck in your day job- hopefully you can help even _more_ people now that you’re free of this obligation.”

This time it was Jyn’s turn to hang up before Cassian could say anything more, punctuated by downward beep of his phone, and he sighed and looked up at the ceiling. Although Cassian normally looked forward to the solitude and quiet that his home provided as an escape from the chaos of work, the silence tonight became unbearable as his mind fell into panic and clamored for a solution.

If he was going to save his career, Cassian had to do something about his mistake, and _fast_.


End file.
